


A Promise Kept

by anonymous_moose



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Murder, Post-Canon, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_moose/pseuds/anonymous_moose
Summary: Taako doesn't make many promises, and he doesn't stick his neck out for just anyone. But the promises he does make, he keeps. And there are some people he'd do anything for.Kravitz steps aside. Angus is left out. Taako settles a score.





	A Promise Kept

As soon as they came to the fork in the road, Taako pulled the wagons off into a small forest clearing. Far enough away from his destination to be safe, close enough he could get there before dark. If he'd read the map right. If the name he'd heard tossed around the last tavern had been the right one. If he didn't screw it up.

Angus was seated next to him. At age fourteen, he was nearly as tall as Taako, and wasn't that unnerving. Every time he looked at him, Taako felt that much smaller.

"Sir?" Angus asked, confused. "What are we doing?"

"Just gotta run an errand, hon," Taako said casually, avoiding eye contact as he quieted the wagon. "Won't be more than an hour."

"Here? Now? In the middle of nowhere?"

"Yup."

Taako could feel Angus glaring intently at the side of his head. He ignored him.

"I'll come with," Kravitz said over Angus' shoulder.

"And leave Ango alone with the wagons?" Taako scoffed. "Nah, rabbit, I'm good."

Taako jumped down from the driver's bench and shook out his cloak, drawing it about his shoulders.

"Taako–"

"I'll be back," he called over his shoulder, marching off towards the fork. _Left at the fork, straight on, you can't miss it. Barkeep better have been honest._

Taako was about a hundred yards down the road, well out of earshot, when a tear in space opened in front of him. Kravitz stepped out, looking pissed. Taako rolled his eyes.

"Rabbit–"

"No," Kravitz hissed angrily, pointing at him. "Don't. You think I don't know what you're about to do? I've heard you and Merle giggling over your farspeech stones. So has Angus, in all likelihood."

Taako glared at him. "Then why are you in my way?"

Kravitz looked at him like he was as stupid as he sometimes pretended to be. "I'm not 'in your way.' I'm just not letting you go alone."

Somehow, that was the last thing Taako expected. His heart skipped a couple beats, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he looked away.

"Don't need any help," he said.

"Too bad."

Taako closed his eyes. "Don't _want_ any help."

"Taako–"

"This isn't about you!" he said, voice too loud and too harsh in his ears.

Kravitz went quiet, frowning at him. Taako stared him down, rolling his shoulders anxiously.

Then he rushed forward and pulled Kravitz down into a hard kiss. He nearly flinched, but Taako felt his hands squeeze his ribs. When they broke apart, Taako didn't blink.

"I have to do this," he said, seriously, desperately, just a little bit pleadingly. "I. Me. Taako. That's all there is to it."

Kravitz went a bit hollow in the cheeks. The grim reaper - Death's emissary - his husband - reached up and took Taako's hands. He squeezed them, his grip cold and familiar.

He stepped aside, and Taako sighed in relief.

"Ninety minutes," said Kravitz. "And then I'm coming after you."

"Fine, fine," Taako said hurriedly, pulling a set of gloves from a pocket on his pack. "Just keep an eye on Ango 'til I get back."

"Shall I lie to him?" Kravitz asked unhappily.

He gave Kravitz a knowing look. "You don't _know_ where I'm going."

Kravitz sighed. "Your relationship to the truth is a special and unique thing, love."

Taako grinned wolfishly. He winked at Kravitz, then continued down the road.

Now all that was left was the act itself.

* * *

 

Taako had thought about how he was going to do this for a while, but on the walk down the road he had a flash of inspiration. He took off his hat, stuffed it into his pack, pulled out a scarf he'd bought a few towns back and wrapped it around his mouth, then pulled up the hood of his cloak. Another cast of Disguise Self, and he was in business.

Still had to be careful, though; if anyone saw him like this, it'd actually be worse than the alternative. But it was too good. He had to do it like this.

Taako marched down the curving road, and as the sun was setting, he saw a gate up ahead. Twelve feet high and made of wrought iron, attached to a fence that cut through the woods on either side. In the distance at the top of a hill was a three-story classically built manor house. The sort of thing that had groundskeepers and butlers and chefs.

If the loose talk from that barkeep had been accurate, there wouldn't be that many anymore. The family had fallen on hard times of late, and its owner spent most of his time drunk, basking in past glories.

It would be sad if it weren't so pathetic.

Taako marched up to the gate. Two guards, armored in gambesons and holding pikes, perked up as he approached. One of them inside the gate, the other out.

"Oi," the outside one called, somewhat wearily. "Who goes?"

Taako didn't answer, kept marching forward. He took a moment to decide what he wanted to do. No witnesses was the safest, cleanest way. But maybe these folks weren't scum. They worked for scum, sure, but so did a lot of little people.

"Look, guv," the guard said, leaning on his pike, "if it's business, it's to wait until mornin', alright? I can call up if you want, but 'e's not gonna like–"

He made his decision. Taako whipped out the Krebstar from his belt, palm out. The curved blades sprung from the glaive and the jewel in its center gleamed as he cast Sleep. Both guards fell to the ground, unconscious. He stepped over one's body and cast Knock, and the gate swung open.

Taako saw no one else on the grounds as he walked up the hill towards the manor; no gardeners or groundskeepers. There were a couple of deer grazing in the distance, at the edge of the forest, and the flowerbeds were thick with weeds. Most of the windows in the house were dark. He reached the front door and found it unlocked. Overconfidence? Carelessness? Taako didn't much care.

The atrium was large, with marble floors and paneled walls and a large chandelier hanging above. Paintings lined the walls, largely portraits of stern, unhappy looking rich people with their stern, unhappy looking children, and the occasional landscape of the manor grounds in better days. Still, there was no one in sight.

Taako figured he might as well start at the top and work his way down, so he marched up the stairs and headed right, on impulse. He found himself in a wide, carpeted corridor with a number of doors on either side. The first he checked was an empty guest bedroom. The second, on the right, was a storage closet.

He was about to check the third when a door just ahead of him opened. He lifted the Krebstar, little flames conjuring around the blades.

A gnome woman walked out, dressed as a maid and carrying a steel tray with a decanter of wine on it. The moment she saw Taako, she gasped and stumbled back. The decanter shattered, its sound muffled against the carpeted floor.

Taako took one more moment to decide if leaving witnesses was worth it, and reluctantly decided that there was no way it wasn't. He held a finger up to his masked mouth, indicating silence. The gnome didn't make a sound.

"Where is he?" Taako asked, in a voice that wasn't his own.

The maid pointed down the hall at the last door on the left.

"You should leave," he said roughly. "This place isn't gonna be here in about twenty minutes."

She shuffled her feet, glancing towards the stairs, uncertain.

Taako jerked his head towards them. "Well, get goin' already!"

The maid took off down the hall, running for the stairs. Taako watched her go, then turned and headed further down the hall.

The last room on the left was a library. In it was a large fireplace, burning hot, a single large wing-backed leather chair with a small folding tray next to it (another decanter of wine, empty) and a massive portrait above the mantel. It showed a dark-haired man with slick black hair and a trim beard, a sword in his hand and one foot standing on the neck of a gryphon.

As Taako opened the door, a hand raised from the arm of the chair, holding a wine glass. "Finally," slurred a voice like oil-slick velvet. "What took so long?"

Taako approached, his arcane focus practically vibrating in his hand.

"Come on, then," the voice said, shaking the empty glass. "Hurry up."

With a flick of his wrist, Taako pulled the chair clean out from under him. The dark-haired man collapsed to the floor with an undignified yelp. He began to clamber to his feet.

"The fuck are you–"

When he caught sight of Taako, lit by the fire, he froze. His eyes went wide, first with shock, then indignation.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

Taako stepped forward and pulled back his hood. The look on the man's face as he tugged his scarf down was, as Taako had hoped, absolutely delicious.

"Impossible!" he breathed, pushing away on the floor. "You – you don't know magic–"

As he tried to crawl away, Taako threw out the Krebstar for one last spell. The man froze in place, braced on his hands, one leg pulled halfway to his chest, in the process of standing. Taako walked forward and crouched down next to him. The only sound was the man's heaving, desperate breaths; the only movement his eyes, darting about in their sockets, hyper-aware of Taako's presence.

Slowly, Taako reached behind him and drew his knife. The long one that Carey had given him, many Candlenights ago - ' _For cooking or stabbing, whatever.'_ He regarded it in his hands. The man's breathing grew quicker.

Taako had never murdered anyone. He'd killed, for sure. In self-defense. Occasionally on accident. But never a premeditated murder of a helpless victim. It made him pause, for a moment – consider his actions, reflect on his life and decisions.

Only for a moment.

Taako met the man's eyes and allowed himself a vicious grin.

"This is for Julia," said the voice of Magnus Burnsides, and he drove the knife up and into Kalen's heart.

Kalen didn't flinch, even as Taako twisted the knife and dragged it to his sternum. All he did was inhale sharply, dart his eyes from the wound to the door to Taako and back again, his pupils dilating. Taako drew the blade from his flesh, and his expression flattened into a grim placidity as he waited.

Slowly, blood began to pour from Kalen's mouth. His breathing grew watery as he began to choke. Finally, as the light in his eyes went out, the Paralysis spell ended, and he slumped to the floor. Dead as disco.

Taako stood, staring at the body. Then he held out the Krebstar, palm down, and cast an old spell Lup had taught him thirty-odd years ago. A small, hot, bright ball of fire conjured and floated above Kalen's body, and Taako quickly turned and left.

He was halfway down the hall when the Delayed Fireball exploded, disintegrating most of the room and shooting fire out into the corridor. He threw a couple more Fireballs as he left, to his left and right, and then one into the ceiling as he passed through the front door of the manor. He saw no one as he left, but pulled his scarf and hood back up anyway.

He walked down the path, stepped over the still-sleeping guards, closed the gate behind him and cast Lock. Then he ducked into the woods off the road, and he watched.

There was no kill like overkill, no certainty like absolute certainty. Taako waited until the manor was engulfed in flames, embers shooting high up into the clear night sky, and the roof had collapsed on the floors below before he turned and started back down the road.

The area was fairly remote, and he saw no one on the way back. No stray militia patrol, no incoming fire brigade, no little gnomish maid. He kept his guard up anyway, glancing into the trees on his left and right, or over his shoulder. Shades of Glamour Springs, except this time he really was guilty. He knew he wouldn't sleep well that night, or the next. Might take a few weeks for him to get comfortable with the idea that he'd gotten away with it.

But he would. Taako had no regrets. This certainly wouldn't be his first.

Halfway home, he snapped his fingers and dispelled his disguise, pulled his hat out of his pack and put the scarf back in, and continued on. He thought about putting his glamour back up – he still had few higher-level spells left in him – but for once, he didn't bother. Murder, it turned out, was tiring, and his weariness won out over his vanity.

Maybe that was why, when he finally came up the wagons, _Sizzle It Up!_ branding glimmering gold in the light of a campfire, Kravitz and Angus looked so immediately concerned. Or maybe it was the light above the trees behind him, the fire in the distance bruising the sky above.

"Taako?" Kravitz prompted.

"Errand's done, homie," he said casually, patting him on the shoulder as he passed. "Let's get back on the road."

"At night?" Angus asked suspiciously.

"Sure." Taako climbed up into the driver's bench of the wagon. "Not that far from next town. Could stand to make up some time. Put out the fire and let's get movin'."

Kravitz climbed up next to Taako as he primed the wagon. Taako met his gaze and nodded. Kravitz grimaced a little, but said nothing.

Angus doused the fire, then climbed up alongside Taako. Before he could start down the road, Angus put a hand on his forearm.

"Sir," he said. "What did you do?"

Taako stared at him flatly. Angus almost looked angry, but it was hard to tell if that was from being lied to, from not involving him, or from the act itself – if he even knew as much as Kravitz had supposed he did. Taako laid a hand on Angus' and patted it gently, in what he hoped was more reassuring than patronizing.

"Nothing bad, boychik," he said quietly, looking forward and levering the wagon into first gear. "Don't worry about it."

He still felt Angus staring, but he didn't acknowledge it. He drove the wagon out of the clearing and started down the road, taking the right fork this time.

He'd call Merle later, tell him the whole story, gloat about winning their bet. Maybe he'd tell them all, one day. Maybe he'd even try to tell Magnus; he was pretty sure, if he avoided proper names, he could do it. Magnus knew what he'd given up in Wonderland, the same way you remember losing something without knowing where it is. Even if he could never know, really, he could trust that Taako did.

He would, too, Taako knew. Magnus would trust that he got the right guy. Magnus would trust damn near anything Taako told him in the right tone of voice.

And the thought struck him suddenly that maybe he should have just lied. Said he'd done it without actually doing it. How would Magnus have known the difference? Maybe that would have been the better thing. The more moral thing.

Taako snorted quietly and shifted the wagon into second with a cruel little smirk.

He'd never been all that moral anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks, as always, to the wonderful orchidcactus and the ever-lovely loquaciousquark for their help. <3


End file.
